


Old Wives’ Tales

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gagged Castiel, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Kidnapped Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, Tied-Up Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 03:26:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21206621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It isn’t his fault he had to do this.It isn’t his fault he got sick.It isn’t his fault that this is the only thing that will help.





	Old Wives’ Tales

**Author's Note:**

> I used the non con tag because everything that happens to Cas is non consensual and while his captor’s motivation isn’t sexual he has Cas naked and helpless. 
> 
> There is forced nudity and forced physical contact of a distressing nature in this story.

When he was seven, the old man next door to him got sick. It was sudden and people came and went from the house a lot, and his grandma would watch from the window and say things like “It’s a telling,” and “All’s water under the bridge come time,” and he didn’t understand any of it. 

And then the old man got better and people talked about miracles and some people said it was the tincture his sister brought him from back east, but Mrs Bailey, her son was a doctor, and she said it was because of something called ‘medical science’ and nothing else. Certainly not any old wives’ tales. 

But his grandma let them all have their opinions and then when they were alone, she shook her head at their foolishness. 

“Angel sweat and tears,” she said. “And not a damn thing else.”

He never forgot. 

*_*

The angel’s tears are bitter. He captures them with his lips, letting the salt nip his chapped skin, and then works his way south. 

His captive’s been struggling for a while, so he’s slick with sweat by now, and he ignores the muffled pleas as he drags his tongue in stripes across the angel’s skin. 

He doesn’t look at the angel’s face again. His blue eyes are bloodshot and desperate and it makes him feel more guilty than he already does. 

It’s not fair to the angel to do this, but then it’s not fair to him either that he got sick. 

And if some angel has been willing to shed tears and sweat for him then this wouldn’t have been necessary. 

He keeps it as pure as he can, giving the angel’s nakedness and him licking his body: he’s not a rapist, he’s just ill and out of options and when he’s better he’ll do what he did in reverse. 

Knock the angel out again, hood him, and dump him back where he took him from. 

He doesn’t know when that’ll be though because he’d hoped for some kind of sign he was healing but his body is still pain wracked and he wonders if maybe he’ll have to do this again. Maybe he’s sicker than the old man was or maybe with an unwilling angel it just takes longer. 

And then the angel stops struggling. He looks at his face, suddenly afraid: the people online he’d paid for info on how to find and catch an angel had promised none of it would hurt. Not the drug, not the hood and not the markings burned into the ropes holding the angel in place. 

But he wasn’t unconscious or dead. He was looking to the window as if he could see past the heavy curtains and before he can ask the angel what he hears…

He hears it too. 

The heavy rumble of a car approaching, something with muscle from the sound of it. Maybe somebody just driving past. 

But it doesn’t sound like it - it sounds like it’s driving right up to the door - and when he looks at the angel again, the angel’s looking back at him. 

And he sees his own death in the angel’s eyes. 

Like his grandma had once said…

It’s a telling.


End file.
